


Mated

by rev_eeriee



Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing
Genre: Alternate Universe – Soulmate, Alternate Universe – Vampire, Angst and Fluff, Biting, Blood, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Enoshima still brought the world to despair, Future Foundation is some kind of Hunter organization, Hope’s Peak is a school for hunters or some shit, I swear it sounds shitty when I say it like this but I hope it makes sense, M/M, Ouma bite me XD, Physical Pain, Rev tries to make vampire biting sound sexy, Supernatural war, This is kind of a fuse between those two, hunter!Momota, kisses and hugs, they’re soulmates duh, vampire!Ouma
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-21
Updated: 2018-05-21
Packaged: 2019-05-09 18:10:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,662
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14721063
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rev_eeriee/pseuds/rev_eeriee
Summary: “He’s dying.” The voice was cold and clinical, unmistakably female, with an accent Momota couldn’t place. She spoke as if she was reading off a shopping list rather than stating someone else’s impending doom. He only had time to process what the female voice was implying--- that he, Momota Kaito, was dying, and he immediately clenched his fist as he fought against the fog of agony drifting all around him, as if resistance would somehow prove the claim wrong. He is not dying. He won’t, not now, not ever. Not before he’d finished the duty he had taken, not until he’s gotten rid of her, not until he’s become a hero---“Tch. Idiot. Who the hell ventures in this coven, alone? Is he out of his mind?” A low hiss. Male. Momota vaguely registered that this second voice definitely sounded younger than the former. Even so, the hunter didn’t think that conclusion was very reliable, especially since if he was where he suspected he was, then these two creatures in front of him wouldn’t hold the same kind of simple logic that applies to humans like himself.---AKA. Vampire/Soulmate AU. Momota finds himself in an unfortunate situation. A lilac-eyed stranger decides to help.





	Mated

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! This was supposed to be an entry for “Stories Untold” but I accidentally made it too long, oops. This is an AU that’s been in my head for a while. When I created this, all I was thinking was: I want a Soulmate AU but with vampires and a lot of angst. And then this monstrosity happened. XD Writing vampires have always been a guilty pleasure of mine, they’re so fun. There’s a story to be had here, but I’m not planning to focus on it. I was only itching to write some Ouma and Momota interaction. 
> 
> Some information for this AU:
> 
> Both vampires and humans have soulmates (though some humans claim that vampires can’t possibly have soulmates, more on that later). Soulmates have an actual, physicalreaction to their mate’s presence. Love at first touch is very common. Vampire-Human pairings are rare but not unheard of. 
> 
> ‘Fledglings’ are young vampires that have just been turned. ‘Sire’ is what they call the one who turned them. Only purebloods can sire a fledgling. Fledglings are bound to obey the wishes of their sire, willingly or unwillingly, which is why responsible siring is a MUST, at least until Enoshima came along. Enoshima sired the “77th Class” of Hopes Peak (a school for vampire hunters) and started her empire of chaos from there. Sound familiar? XD  
> Future Foundation is some kind of organization for hunters. It is led by Naegi Makoto. 
> 
> I hope you guys enjoy this, I really liked writing it. I also hope Ouma and Momota’s reaction to their soulmate situation was realistic and true to their character. This is unbetaed, so if you notice mistakes, just comment XD

 

Pain.

Deep, numbing  _ pain _ .

Momota took a sharp, shuddering gasp as he opened his eyes and blinked--- once, twice--- registering nothing but the dim, flickering lighting and the way his vision blurred at the edges like an old weathered film. Instinctively, his right hand snapped into action and reached for the the sword strapped to his hip, a side effect of spending his entire life in the face of mortal danger, knowing that whatever situation he’s got himself in, he just  _ had  _ to have to his trusty old blade in his grasp, ready to  _ pulverize  _ any fucker that dared to stand in his way. It didn’t matter that his head hurt, that  _ everything  _ hurt, or that his body felt as if it was being broken and fixed and  _ shattered  _ over and over in a relentless cycle of unbearable agony. It didn’t matter that his neck, for some reason,  _ burned  _ as if acid was being poured inside his bloodstream, fed into his veins that set his entire body in flames. He needed to  _ fight _ , and fight he would, and it was only when his leather-clad grip felt only open air that he actually began to panic.

His weapon was gone. His weapon was  _ nowhere.  _ A huge wave of pain crashed against his bones and seeped into his skin and  _ squeezed  _ the oxygen out of his lungs. Momota let out a strangled groan as he writhed against the cold marble floor, trying to gather his bearings.

_ What the fuck happened?  _ Thinking coherently through these kind of situations was something he took pride in throughout his years of training as a vampire hunter, but never in his life was his mental fortitude challenged to this extent. His thoughts were scattering, his focus slipping, and all he could do was let out a choked whimper as he could  _ swear  _ that his heart was being  _ crushed  _ inside his own ribcage---

“He’s dying.” The voice was cold and clinical, unmistakably female, with an accent Momota couldn’t place. She spoke as if she was reading off a shopping list rather than stating someone else’s impending doom, and Momota grit his teeth as he tried to listen, realizing only then that there were shadows of what could have been people looking down at him, two at least, though with the way his vision was doubling over he couldn’t exactly be certain. He only had time to process what the female voice was implying--- that he, Momota Kaito, was  _ dying _ , and he immediately clenched his fist as he fought against the fog of agony drifting all around him, as if resistance would somehow prove the claim wrong. He is  _ not  _ dying. He won’t, not now, not  _ ever.  _ Not before he’d finished the duty he had taken, not until he’s gotten rid of  _ her,  _ not until he’s become a  _ hero--- _

“Tsk. Idiot. Who the hell ventures in  _ this _ coven, alone? Is he out of his mind?” A low hiss. Male. The voice was more hushed, as if the speaker was holding himself back from being too concerned, and Momota vaguely registered that this second voice definitely sounded younger than the former. Even so, the hunter didn’t think that conclusion was very reliable, especially since  _ if  _ he was where he suspected he was, then these two  _ creatures  _ in front of him wouldn’t hold the same kind of simple logic that applies to humans like himself. 

“He must be part of the assist team the Future Foundation has promised they’ll send out. Unfortunately, it seems like he was discovered by Enoshima-san too soon.” The female continued. “How disappointing.”

At the sound of her name, Momota immediately tensed.  _ Oh god... no, no no... Now,  _ he remembered. Enoshima, Enoshima... that  _ bitch  _ Enoshima! He remembered what happened, how he got into this whole mess in the first place. It was  _ that  _ cloud-haired fucker’s fault! If only that goddamn luckster didn’t accidentally knock down several statues and took down part of the  _ roof  _ with it, they would never have found him tailing them, dammit! He was not just  _ any  _ vampire hunter; he was the  _ best  _ there is! To think that he was caught just because of some freak accident--- another wave of pain sent him reeling, gasping, distracting him. New thoughts surfaced, sounding very unlike his own... less angry and more adoring. Enoshima, Enoshima....  _ god, Enoshima...  _ smiling devilishly as he was pinned down at the foot of her throne, staring down at him with interest... His head was filled with the memory of her licking the blood off her lips as she leaned down, catching him in the spell of those  _ beautiful hypnotic gorgeous  _ blue eyes of hers, whispering in his ear that she’d bring him down to despair...

... and as much as he  _ despised  _ her all his life, he realized he was shuddering in  _ delight  _ at the memory of her fangs sinking into his neck---

Momota’s eyes widened in horror at the realization. The sudden  _ thirst _ blossomed inside him like a mockery, as he found himself clutching at his throat and gasping and shivering and  _ begging  _ for something,  _ anything to drink _ \--- it  _ hurt  _ and the pain was worse than anything he could have ever imagined, his throat so parched and rough that if felt as if sandpaper was being scratched against its insides, making him cry out---

“Look at him, he’s already started changing. Enoshima-san seem to have found herself a new toy.”The female voice continued, sounding morbidly amused and Momota wanted to  _ scream _ , because  _ hell no, this can’t be happening. This can’t be happening---  _ “Are you going to do something about it?”

_ Do something about it!  _ Momota wanted to yell, but his throat was so dry that all he was able to let out were choked grunts and anguished whimpers, feeling pathetic as he  _ clawed  _ against his neck desperately, before reaching out to try and clutch at anything,  _ anyone--- _

The younger voice sounded aggravated. “ _ This _ is the reason I didn’t want those damn hunters getting in on our business. They’re making things too complicated---“Momota instinctively sent his hand in his direction, clinging at the sensation of luxurious, soft robes, and he forced himself to open his eyes and  _ see,  _ trying to make out anything from his already faltering vision. He was just able to discern two lilac eyes in the distance, almost glowing in the darkness of the room, staring at him with something akin to surprise. Who was he, Momota didn’t know; all he knew is that he must have been one of  _ them,  _ as his irises were strangely inhuman, almost catlike, pupils dilating a little bit as their eyes met. A sudden sensation of strength filled the hunter’s limbs as he tightened his fist, trying to gather enough of his focus to speak. This... creature _ ,  _ being, person,  _ whatever _ \--- he’s on their side, right? The way he was talking, the way he referred to the Foundation, the way he talked about the hunters--- he’s on their side, he has to be. Despite the pain wracking through the entirety of his body, Momota narrowed his eyes and swallowed hard, staring at him  _ pleadingly--- _

“K-Kill me...” Momota choked out. He didn’t want to die, no, he wanted to  _ live,  _ but at this point that was no longer an option. “K-Kill... me...” he whimpered as he held his throat that  _ hurt like hell  _ and he was hit with the  _ indescribable urge  _ to fucking  _ find something to drink, anything! Give me anything---  _ No!He’s  _ not _ going to let himself turn into one of  _ them.  _ He’s  _ not  _ going to be one of her blind, clueless,  _ faithful  _ followers, celebrating her reign of chaos, reveling in the destruction and  _ despair  _ she wreaked across the entire world. No, no, no, no... if he changes, he’d never be himself again. If he changes, all the  _ talent  _ and the  _ skills  _ and the  _ experience  _ he honed all throughout these years would not only be for nothing, but be used  _ entirely for the cause he despised.  _ He’d rather die than be one of her fledglings. It was her venom that  _ burned  _ at his neck, the feeling of her fangs breaking skin that lingered on his memory--- his mind was waging a war against his still-rational mind and the new instincts taking over--- “KILL ME!” he screamed at the lilac-eyed stranger, clutching at his wrists with a force that  _ would have broken his bone if he was human,  _ but he wasn’t human, was he, no he wasn’t. Momota laughed darkly as he tried to sit up, failing and slamming his head down on the cold marble floor uselessly. “If you don’t have the guts, give me a knife! Someone just fucking  _ give me a knife!” _

“ _ Shh!”  _ the lilac-eyed stranger hissed as he covered his mouth, sounding irritated for a moment. “Shut up! We’re not supposed to be here---“suddenly he gasped. Momota wondered if it has anything to do with the sudden surge of electricity from where their skin touched, the split second of utter  _ relief  _ Momota felt before the stranger pulled back, yelping as if he was burned. For a moment he seemed confused, until a realization flashed in his eyes, and he stared down at the hunter with a mixed sense of disbelief and curiosity. Momota  _ whimpered  _ from the loss as he trembled in pain once again, clutching at his chest as he groaned, practically  _ feeling  _ the heat of the venom crawling in his veins, closer and closer and closer towards his heart---

“I-I think I can fix this.” The stranger suddenly said, sounding uncertain for the very first time. “Celes-chan, leave us.”

A pause. “You cannot possibly overthrow Enoshima-san’s venom, young one, she’s a pureblood older than you. It would be foolish to try.”

“I know. But... I think...” there it was again, the hesitation. He touched Momota’s cheek for a moment and Momota practically  _ sobbed  _ with the relief it brought him, the heat halting in his bloodstream abruptly, and he fucking wished that whatever it was the stranger was doing, that he  _ never ever stop _ \--- “He’s reacting to me.” The stranger said, sounding more determined, as if this was good news. “He belongs to  _ me. _ Even blood hierarchy can’t challenge fate. _ I can fix this _ .”

The female voice hummed. It seems she had realized what he was up to. “Interesting. You were never very enthusiastic about the idea of soulmates before.”

“Try not to be ‘enthusiastic’ when your destined person is dying and being claimed by someone else right in front of you.” The stranger hissed.

“Touché.”

What followed next was a long stretch of silence. Momota barely registered what was happening, but he  _ did  _ hear soft, silent steps (their footsteps were  _ always  _ so silent, weren’t they?) and the sound of the door closing. The lilac-eyed stranger breathed a sigh of relief. Momota could hear shuffling, the rustle of clothing, and he could tell that his jacket was being awkwardly taken off of him, in order to properly expose his neck. A thin figure hovered over him, and with the pain numbed, Momota blinked the black spots dancing in his vision, to stare at the stranger properly for the very first time.

He didn’t know if he should be concerned that his vision has become sharper than he could ever remember all his life. He could see every goddamn detail on the boy’s face, who was now staring at him curiously, not unlike a cat staring down at a mouse that it wondered was worth eating. He looked young, almost unnervingly so, soft and gentle at the edges, all pale skin and messy dark hair, framing a face that looked incredibly innocent, like a child. And yet when he opened his mouth, Momota could see the sharp fangs peeking from the corner of his pink lips, reminding him that he was not quite as harmless as his appearance would have Momota believe.

When Momota spoke, his voice broke. “W-Who... ?”

At the question, the boy seemed to be surprised, before a wide grin split his face. “Your  _ everything. _ ”

Momota frowned, confused.  _ My everything...? _ What the fuck did that mean? He could vaguely remember the thing the female voice mentioned, something about soulmates, and Momota tried to recall every book he had ever read about soul mating to try and garner some idea of  _ what the fuck is happening  _ ( _ do vampires have souls? _ was a question that was usually asked in Momota’s philosophy class, and his less tolerant classmates have always insisted they didn’t) --- that is, until the boy suddenly  _ dug  _ his fingers against the side of his neck, forcefully, so forcefully that Momota almost winced,  _ almost,  _ if it wasn’t for the sheer feeling of  _ pleasure  _ the gesture sent deep into his spine... a feeling he didn’t quite understand, but wouldn’t mind experiencing again. The sensation made it incredibly hard to gather his focus, but he tried, he really did---

The boy stared at him as if he had evolved from a mouse into a  _ tasty piece of steak,  _ licking his lips almost hungrily. When he spoke, he was breathless. “Momota Kaito.”

Something in Momota  _ clicked,  _ and he just knew. “Ouma Kokichi.”

Ouma  _ giggled  _ as he dug his finger in yet again, and Momota nearly  _ moaned.  _ He just felt so conflicted, wondering if the electricity running down his spine was  _ good  _ or  _ bad,  _ because as much as Ouma was supposed to be on their side (at least, he hoped so), he was still one of  _ them _ , a bloodsucker, a  _ vampire _ , and every bit of Momota’s training screamed that he was untrustworthy and dangerous. These sensations were unfamiliar, alien, but it was  _ good  _ and nice and  _ heavenly— _ Momota’s body was screaming for  _ more.  _ But knowing that his instincts were now tethering between human and  _ not quite so _ , he wasn’t sure if he should trust his gut feelings anymore.

“I can’t slow her venom forever, Momota-chan. So you’re gonna have to listen to me.” Ouma suddenly said, sounding more urgent. “As much as I want to  _ tease _ those noises out of you, you’re gonna have to consent to this to make this work.”

Consent? Consent to what? Momota was so  _ confused.  _ Regardless, he tried to focus, blinking his eyes several times, staring at Ouma Kokichi with half-lidded eyes, waiting for him to continue.

“--- didn’t think I’d meet my mate like this.” Ouma was saying, his eyes becoming more serious as he stared at the damage on Momota’s neck. Something flashed in his expression. Anger. Irritation. He was  _ pissed  _ that Momota was in this state,  _ pissed  _ that Momota was bitten. “I didn’t think my mate would be such a hopeless  _ idiot. _ ”

_ Mate... _ Momota’s eyes widened, finally getting some idea about what was going on. _ This guy is my... soulmate?  _ His head was spinning.  _ This guy--- a fucking  _ vampire _ \--- what the fuck.  _ Now Momota felt  _ even more  _ conflicted. He had to admit, he’s always been excited to meet his soulmate, but to meet them like this.... well,  _ at least  _ this guy doesn’t seem to be one of Enoshima’s lackeys. He could look past the catlike eyes and the fangs,  _ really  _ he could, as long as he wasn’t following that crazy madwoman. He could think of one or two people who wouldn’t be very pleased with this turn of events though. Yonaga Angie, his partner, would be no less than disgusted. That girl has always been one hell of a purist--- she and Momota didn’t really get along.

“I-I’m not an idiot...” Momota tried to retort. Ouma only rolled his eyes and continued.

“I’ll make you a deal, my little vampire hunter.” Ouma said as he stared deep into his eyes. Momota shivered as he tightened his grip on his neck.  _ Don’t stop, don’t stop, don’t stop--- _ “Choose. I can kill you right now, while you’re still human--- well,  _ barely  _ human--- and end your short miserable life just like that...” he trailed off as his expression blanked, and Momota had a feeling that it was an option he didn’t want the hunter to take--- “Or I’ll make you  _ mine. _ ”

Momota’s head was swimming in the sensation Ouma’s touch was giving him, but he managed to muster enough focus for a semi-coherent response. “W-What does being yours...entail? Y-You... you’re on our side, right? You’re helping us get rid of  _ her,  _ right?”

Ouma leaned down, and Momota felt dizzy from the proximity, even more so when he leaned close enough for their breaths to mingle. “Being mine entails... being  _ my _ fledgling. Helping me take over. I’ll pull this world directly from under that  _ bitch  _ Enoshima, and make it  _ mine. _ ” He leaned down and ran his fangs against Momota’s neck, right on the spot where he was bitten, and Momota let out a stuttering gasp, feeling his toes curl. “Being my mate. Being my lover.” A tongue flicking to lick at the abused skin. Momota shuddered and  _ moaned.  _ Ouma giggled. “You can feel it, right? The pull. The connection. I’m not like her, Momota-chan. I will  _ never  _ make you do anything you didn’t like. Keep wearing your uniform for all I care. Keep hunting vampires for all I care. You get to keep your life, and I get to keep  _ you. _ Well...” he trailed off as he grinned against his skin and placed a wet, sultry kiss that had Momota  _ melting.  _ “Not that you won’t enjoy keeping me too.”

Momota was gasping, but now for a different reason altogether. It just felt so  _ good.  _ It was something akin to physical pleasure, but  _ deeper,  _ as if it was his very soul that was reveling in the presence of this almost stranger, and he knew at that moment that dying wasn’t an option anymore. And it wasn’t even because the deal was too sweet to refuse, nor his personal code of clinging to life as best as he could--- no. It was because at that moment, it was instinct, he just knew--- as much as Ouma wanted to make him his...  _ I want to make this bastard mine, too. _

“Do it.” Momota demanded, clinging to Ouma’s robes. “Do it, do it, do it,  _ do it _ \---  _ ahh...” _

Ouma let out a muffled groan as he sank his fangs into Momota’s neck, and  _ oh my god, it feels so good, it feels so good, it feels so goddamn good---  _ Momota whimpered as he felt his venom enter his bloodstream, and while Enoshima’s only brought him to a world of anguish and pain, Ouma’s was sending him into a pool of pure bliss, making him groan as he arched his back, trembling with pure ecstasy, chanting his name. Ouma sank his teeth in  _ further,  _ and Momota cried out as he felt his tongue slide across his broken skin before he braced his hand on his shoulder and sucked  _ hard.  _ Momota was just  _ gone, broken, shattered,  _ as he listened to the sounds of approval Ouma let out, the long, steady gulps he was taking from him. Soon enough Momota could feel his fingers tingling, his head turning to mush, his groans quieting down to mere mewls as he heard his own pounding heartbeat slow down into a steady rhythm, getting slower and slower and slower and...

... it stopped.

Darkness. Oblivion. Isolation.  _ Death.  _ But Momota didn’t care. He  _ couldn’t  _ care. He was simply floating in the void. Weightless. And that was when he felt it, a pull, as if a force was pulling him up, back  up, way way  _ waaaay  _ up, and suddenly he gasped, his eyes snapping open, and he could tell that something was  _ different, gloriously different. _ His senses were tingling and his chest was heaving and Ouma was right there, staring at him expectantly. The pain was gone, swept away like it was nothing, replaced by a weird sense of love and  _ adoration  _ for this stranger in front of him---

Momota winced as he rubbed his neck, expecting to feel the abused skin, but to his wonder, the wound seems to have healed, replaced by a scar that felt rough against his fingertips. He glared at Ouma. “What the fuck did you do to me?”

Ouma was staring at him warily, as if he wasn’t sure what to make of him. “Nothing you didn’t want me to, surely.”

Momota scowled. “You’re so... I want to...!” He stared at Ouma as he closed and opened his palms, hit with the urge to drown the vampire in affections, and it was  _ freaking him out  _ more than he wanted to admit _.  _ “It’s weird! What the  _ fuck. _ ”

Ouma’s lips twitched as if he knew exactly what he was thinking, finding his reaction downright amusing. “Fledglings do tend to feel quite attached to their sires, I heard. They weren’t supposed to recover so quickly too. Interesting.” He simply stated as he leaned closer, staring at him inquisitively, as if he wanted to open him up. “Is it because we’re soulmates too? Or is it because you have a high pain tolerance, being a hunter and all? Either way, I think you’re pretty darn lucky. If I wasn’t here, you’d be one of  _ them _ by now.”

_ Them.  _ Momota hesitated, remembering the fate his upperclassmen had fallen in, a fate worse than death. “T-Thank you. You didn’t have to do that...”

Ouma’s expression blanked, and Momota shivered. He looked innocent when he was grinning, but like this he looked like the rest of his kind. When he spoke, it was businesslike, composed. “On the contrary. Vampires are instinctual creatures. Your death would have affected me,  _ immensely.  _ It would hurt my personal objectives.”

“Oh.” Momota made a uncertain expression as he rubbed his neck even more, scratching the scar. “It itches.” He complained, before he gasped, the familiar sense thirst in his throat coming back in full force. “It--- hah, it  _ burns...”  _ He clutched at his throat, whining. “I-It  _ hurts,  _ Ouma, it hurts---“ Ouma blinked in surprise before he finally understood, as he bit his wrist and held it up to him, the vein open and inviting,  _ bleeding _ ,  _ bleeding, bleeding. _ ..

“Go on.” Ouma smiled in encouragement. “Don’t be shy.”

Momota took the wrist with shaking hands. His teeth now have a small sharpened edge to it, but certainly not long enough to be considered  _ fangs,  _ and he vaguely remembered in his studies that fledglings tend to develop their teeth over the course of a year. He was glad that he was already out of the danger zone, that he was no longer  _ dying, _ but he couldn’t help but worry as he lapped at Ouma’s wrist, practically shaking as the flavors of his blood burst into his tongue, simply incomparable to anything else Momota had ever tasted in his whole goddamn life. He sucked greedily, licking any droplets that escaped him, and in the corner of his eye he saw Ouma tremble slightly. Momota wondered if he was experiencing the same kind of bliss the hunter previously reveled in, staring at him with a smoldering gaze as he watched Ouma’s expression falter a little. The vampire looked away, his cheeks lightly flushing...

_ Vampires could blush?  _ It was a strange idea. But then again, vampires could bleed, so surely there was some other way of blood circulation going on here, despite their already frozen heartbeats.

_ Not enough, not enough.  _ Momota didn’t know what was wrong. But  _ something _ was wrong. The blood didn’t quench his thirst--- well, it  _ did _ , but only in a way so  _ unsatisfying  _ that it might as well didn’t. He was taking long gulps, but he felt as if Ouma was giving him a glass of water with only a droplet in it. No matter how many times Ouma refills that droplet,  _ it would never feel nearly enough. _

Momota pulled back and  _ growled.  _ “Give me your  _ neck. _ ”

Ouma’s eyes widened. For a moment he looked hesitant, but eventually he craned his neck and took off the checkered scarf he was wearing, using a fingernail to open a gash on it, the blood flowing on a trail against his milky white skin. Momota’s mouth felt dry as he leaned over and licked it tentatively, humming under is throat approvingly. Ouma let out a soft whine, encouraging him to start sucking, so he did _.  _ Ouma gasped as Momota drank him in, strong arms pulling him flush against his body, nails digging on his waist hard enough to bruise, if vampires  _ could  _ bruise. Momota figured he’d find it out later. He was more concerned about the fact that his thirst wasn’t being quenched, his  _ desires  _ unsatisfied.  _ Not enough, not enough.  _ In his head he was met with an image of banging on an imaginary wall, wanting to break it--- _ god,  _ did he want to break it. Despite his lack of sharp canines, he bit  _ hard,  _ and when Ouma let out a moan, Momota thought he felt that wall  _ crack. _

Suddenly he understood. He doubled on his efforts, wanting to degrade Ouma into a mess of sensation. If Ouma didn’t want to lower his walls, Momota would break through it, bit by bit by bit, and finally Ouma was gasping, holding his head and crying out--- “No, no, no,  _ no--- don’t look!” _

_ Show me.  _ Momota’s thoughts demanded.

The wall  _ shattered. _

_ Chaos. Solitude. Loneliness. Sin. Envy. Violence. Companionship. Happiness. Innocence. Horror. Regret. Regret. Regret.  _ **_Regret._ **

Ouma  _ hissed.  _ “You insolent---  _ Kaito,  _ stop--- you can’t  _ handle _ looking through my memories yet! Who even taught youthaa---  _ hah--- _ Those are decades worth of---  _ ahhh s-shit... _ ” Ouma whimpered as his body became compliant, putty in Momota’s hands, and Momota would have grinned in success if he wasn’t already wide-eyed in horror at the images his mind was feeding him---  _ a broken wasteland, a small room,chains around his neck, bars that burned his skin, figures in white, a wide innocent smile in the face of a child, a bloodstained scarf, a shattered tea set, blood and flames and tears and sweat and screaming and yelling and a dignified woman with strawberry blonde hair and beautiful hypnotic gorgeous blue eyes smiling at him in the wreck of his home, giggling. “Oh, those humans were your friends? I thought they were ants, I got rid of them---“ _

**_Anger. Fury. Self-loathing. Regret. Regret. Regret._ **

“ _ ENOUGH!” _ Ouma yelled as he pushed Momota away, looking panicked as he held his neck, eyes wide and breaths ragged, almost like a wild animal. Momota was dazed as he shuffled back, chest heaving, his heart  _ breaking  _ from the way Ouma glared at him--- “Who do you think you are?! You have no right to pick me apart! I know soulmates are supposed to be absolute, but bloody hell, I will  _ not hesitate to--- _ “ He paused as he stared at Momota, suddenly looking confused.

Momota blinked and felt the moisture that gathered in his lashes, wiping down the tears before they streak down his cheek. He mumbled profanities under his breath, he didn’t cry often but dammit, he really couldn’t help it this time. That was just... too sad. Being alone for the longest time... finding solace and companionship for the very first time--- only for your newfound home to be burned to cinders. The expression drained from Ouma’s face, as he watched him without a word, as if he couldn’t quite grasp what he was seeing. He leaned in and caught a tear with his finger, staring at it as if he’s never seen it before.

“What’s this?” he asked, baffled. Momota stared at him incredulously.

“W-What else? It’s tears, moron.”

“Tears...” Ouma whispered, puzzled. “Why are you...” he hesitated. “ _ Tearing _ ?”

“ _ Crying,”  _ Momota corrected him with a small laugh. The tension from their earlier argument evident in the way he shifted his gaze. “Geez, don’t you vampires ever cry?”

Ouma contemplated it, before he shook his head. “No. No, we really don’t.”

Awkward silence. The anger in Ouma’s eyes seem to have completely dissipated, eclipsed by his sudden befuddlement. Momota wiped his teary eyes with his shirt, letting out a shaky breath as he remembered what he had seen, what this small boy had gone through, and even when he knew his appearance was a sham, he still felt a familiar sense of protectiveness toward him. He watched his tensed shoulders, his controlled breaths, his wary lilac irises...

“Enoshima’s followers killed my grandparents when I was nine.” Momota murmured, feeling like he needed to offer something back. “They were my only family until Hopes Peak took me in as a trainee.”

Ouma stared at him, as if he was trying to gauge if he was lying. Momota simply shrugged. He’d let him think whatever he wanted to think. If he had found out Ouma’s history, Ouma deserved to find out his, too. Momota swallowed hard as he hesitated, before he opened his arms out in an invitation. “Come here.”

Unsure what he was up to, Ouma frowned, but he shuffled towards him.

“Closer.” Momota urged.

Ouma’s stared at him with big doe eyes as he crawled closer, almost sitting on his lap. Momota grinned as he put his arms around him and embraced him tightly, inhaling his scent. Ouma yelped in surprise, before he relaxed in his touch. They didn’t know much about each other yet, not really, but Ouma must feel it: the connection between two souls that were simply meant to be with each other.

“I’m sorry.” Momota whispered as he ran his fingers through Ouma’s hair. “I didn’t mean to...”

“No. It’s fine. Whatever.” There was still a slight irritation to his voice, but eventually he sighed into Momota’s touch.

“Was it the hunters who...?” Momota hesitated.  _ Chained you up? Maltreated you? Imprisoned you?  _ He didn’t want to think that the Future Foundation could do something so horrible, but he  _ knew  _ that judgement and discrimination brings the worst out of people. Ouma was so young...

“I don’t know.” Ouma admitted. “It doesn’t matter anymore.”

Silence. Until finally, Ouma asked, gesturing to Momota’s arms around him. “What is this you’re doing?” he sounded confused and curious, innocent like a child.

Momota laughed. “It’s a hug. It’s something humans do.”

“A hug...” Ouma trailed off as he placed his hands on Momota’s back, hugging him back. He inhaled softly and nuzzled against his chest, and from the corner of his eye, Momota thought he saw him smile. “It’s warm.”

“Yeah...” Momota replied thoughtfully as he stared at the ceiling, remembering the gravity of his situation. He frowned. “So what happens now? I’m not really that familiar with vampire customs...” he trailed off. He was usually better at  _ hunting,  _ the actual chase,and left the book smarts to his best friend, Saihara. “Besides, I’ve got a job to do for the Foundation. I can’t just abandon that.”

Ouma shrugged. “I’m good friends with Naegi-chan. I can explain the matter to him, and I’m sure he’ll let you continue your work, as long as you don’t accidentally  _ bite _ someone.”

Momota blanched. “S-Should I be concerned about that?”

Ouma lifted his head and gave him a teasing look. “I don’t know... should you?”

“Ouma!”

Ouma giggled. “Well, for now you wouldn’t have to worry. Fledglings your age should only be attracted to their sire’s blood, at least for a while.”

There was a sound of hurried footsteps outside the door. Ouma’s expression faltered, before he made a smile that was less teasing and more strained, pulling back from Momota and standing up. “They’re coming. You have to  _ leave. _ ”

Momota didn’t expect the stab of disappointment that lingered in his chest. “Already?”

“ _ Yes _ .” Ouma replied as he started pushing him in the direction of the terrace. Momota only realized just then that they were in some sort of bedroom--- where the bed went, he had no idea. But vampires don’t sleep, and maybe in their own space they decided that a bed would be unnecessary. Ouma opened the glass door leading to the terrace, and Momota winced as a gust of wind hit him in the face, cold and biting in the dim autumn night.

“Wait a second, you expect me to  _ jump?” _ Momota asked incredulously. Ouma looked amused.

“You seem to forget what you have become, Momota-chan. Your soulmate and sire happens to be a legitimate pureblood vampire, the third oldest, if you count out those who have died. With my blood in your veins, this height is  _ nothing _ .” He said as he pushed Momota to the edge, eye sparkling. “Trust me?”

Momota stammered as he glanced down. This mansion was off the side of a mountain, that shit is  _ high.  _ “W-We just met, I’m not entirely sure---“

Ouma sounded wounded as he made him face him, pouting adorably. “Momota-chan! Do you think I’d harm you?”

Seeing his eager expression, the adoration in his eyes, the confident quirk of his mouth, Momota swallowed hard. “N-No... you probably won’t.”

“Wow, thanks for such a high vote of confidence...” Ouma’s response was sarcastic.

“I-I...” Momota hesitated as he glanced back down behind him, at the height. “I trust you.”

Something in Ouma’s expression softened. He suddenly grinned. “You know, I don’t know much about human customs either, never really got interested in their shit.”  _ Lie.  _ Momota knew, because he knew how  _ that  _ group of humans accepted Ouma as their own, unaware of his true identity, and that in that moment, Ouma had loved it. The way Ouma’s eyes sparkled sadly made him wonder if he knew Momota could tell. He leaned in and whispered. “But there  _ is  _ one thing humans and vampires do in common.”

Momota yelped as he was suddenly pulled by the collar, gasping as a surprisingly warm pair of lips met his, sweet and inviting. Momota opened his mouth and kissed him back, shivering a bit whenever his tongue grazes Ouma’s fangs, as his mate made soft noises of approval. When they pulled back, Ouma’s cheeks were flushed, and he smirked up at him, devilishly.

“See you later.”

The last thing Momota remembered before he hit the ground with a thud was the sound of wind whizzing past his ears, and the fleeting wishful thought that maybe next time, they would have the chance to kiss for just a little while longer.

**Author's Note:**

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